


Tyrhal's fallen kindom

by Nopalope



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Horror, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, parallel worlds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:41:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29969973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nopalope/pseuds/Nopalope
Summary: "What if there really are things that the human brain cannot grasp and there is something darker than the darkness we know? And what happens when the existence of an entire world called Tyrhal is suddenly in the hands of a supposedly simple Officer?" [Paulchard]
Relationships: Richard Kruspe/Paul Landers
Kudos: 5





	1. rainy days

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is, the english version to the original version of [Tyrhal's kindom](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29867268/chapters/73495911) .  
>  English is't my native language and most chapter are not beta read, so please be gentle with me. xD 
> 
> This is a story that has been on my mind for a few years by now and I never thought that I would publish it one day. But now here we are what I owe only to a few very dear and amazing people who I got to know and who were able to sneak into my heart.  
>  I hope you enjoy the upcoming path of Paul and Richard es much as I did by writing it. 
> 
> For those who wonder that is how the boys kinda look like in this story. In RL it should be something around 2005  
> [Reesh](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f8943b0c13f20287400db153402b822e/tumblr_naloliB2sB1sqfbc1o2_250.gifv)   
> and  
> [Paul](https://64.media.tumblr.com/84cc76e8db34035a47e4fd19a5fde3a0/e215051b2f8d9442-37/s540x810/554d8ee2844aedde4be05a286e11d2e1697d5f98.jpg)
> 
> Should you have any criticism or tips, please let me know in the comments.
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is only fiction!  
>  This story is a work of my fantasy, I do not own anything except the idea and the later joining original characters I created for that story. I don't make any money with that fic.

**28 Oktober**

_tip_ _tip_

_tip_ _tip_ _tip_

_tip_ ...

The initially gentle and few raindrops pattered louder and louder against the large window pane of the living room, which offered a rather sad view of the world behind the warm walls of the apartment. Dark clouds had been hanging over Berlin for days, showing proudly how dreary autumn could be. At least the days had stayed dry, but even that seemed to be over now, because in the meantime the scattered drops had developed into a full-blown rain shower, which, like countless tiny fists, gave a concert of autumn against the cold window pane. It was almost comforting and drowsy, especially when you were as tired as the resident of the apartment. For hours he had been sitting almost completely motionless on the couch, surrounded by files and books, which, however, received hardly any attention. Instead, he had spent tough minutes looking out of the window into the sparse view, watching cars and people, who, typical of the big city, rushed through the streets. He watched them, but he didn't really notice them because his thoughts were elsewhere, as far too often in the past few weeks. At least until an atypical movement in the corner of his eye drew his attention back to reality. A movement that did not fit into the much too familiar image of everyday observations of people and cars. The couch creaked softly as the man straightened to take a closer look.  
Looking for shelter from the raindrops, a cat strolled along his balcony, looking for a dry shelter or more likely a way to find some way into the apartment where it could exchange cold and wet for dryness and warmth.  
He knew the cat, although knowing was definitely too much to be said for this. He didn't really know either the cat or the owner. He would be happy to bring the velvet paw back to the master with a complaint, accompanied by a request to supervise the four-legged friend better, because the animal had been pacing around in front of his window for weeks now. And not just there. If it wasn't too absurd, he would claim that the animal was stalking him. Yes, stalking! For a human, these would be the best words to describe the cat's behavior over the past few weeks. After all, it was not the first time he found the cat in front of one of his windows and it was also not uncommon for the four-legged friend to come after him when he left the house. Came way behind.  
But most of the time he found the animal in front of the balcony window, as it is now, and while at first he was as excited as he was amazed, he was now only amazed and accepted it at the same time, what else could he do anyway?  
In the meantime the cat had given up looking for a loophole, sat now in the middle of the balcony door and looked attentively at the black-haired man on the couch, who was also looking back. Minutes passed in which neither moved nor looked away, no more than the steady sound of falling raindrops filling the silence. Until finally there was an unfamiliar noise.  
 _Meow!_  
The black-haired man raised one of the curved, dark brows in surprise. That was something new. He had never heard the street tiger meow before.  
 _Meow!_  
"You don't really think I'll let you in!"  
 _Meoooow_  
"If you want a dry place to stay in, go home!"  
 _Meow Meooow_  
// Wonderful, now I'm already talking to cats! //  
With a soft snort, the black-haired man pushed the documents from his thighs, where they had been more decoration than teaching material all the time, and stood up. With slow steps he padded barefoot over the laminate floor to the balcony door, crouched in front of it and looked at the animal, which was still sitting there attentively, watching him in every movement and giving a meow here and there, which was only muffled and barely audibly through the window pane.  
He couldn't just let a complete strangers cat into his apartment. And certainly not one with uncanny tendencies towards stalking!  
On the other hand, he already felt sorry for the ball of fur, which was now visibly wet, which took away pretty much any elegance that cats naturally wore with them. And why did he even think about letting her in in first place anyway?!  
He felt foolish to crouch here at his window and look at the stray, who stared back at him in response from his blue eyes, expectant, almost reproaching, only occasionally giving a meow.  
Minutes slipped into the country like this until he rose above himself with a shake of his head, went back to the couch and dropped back onto it.  
He wouldn't let a strange cat in! Especially none from the street, who knew what kind of fleas or diseases they might have. Presumably she would take the whole place apart or what did he know!  
So he tried to ignore the animal, which was still sitting there unchanged, and took back the files that he had previously carelessly pushed aside. He should learn, he should really study and not just let the pile of papers and files warm his thighs! He had already wasted far too much time with wandering thoughts, let himself be distracted once again by the emptiness of the day and what he had now caught up with a lot!  
It had been like this for weeks.  
Every day he sat down, armed with the teaching material and stared at the countless letters of the reading in the hope that this time the concentration would stay and he would finally make progress.  
But most of the time, just like today, it ended up in the fact that he spent hours wandering around in thoughts and staring lost in thought out of one of the windows instead of actually looking at the documents. When he sat on his couch in the living room as he is now, he usually ended up falling asleep sitting or half lying, only to startle up again an hour or two later and have to live with ungrateful back pain for the rest of the day. Although he was now always overtired, a two hour sleep was now the sad average that had leveled off in the last months of his life and if he did sleep more, then he was more exhausted than before.  
In the beginning his dreams had only occasionally slipped into the uncanny. But now there was hardly a moment of sleep in which he did not find himself in a situation that could just as easily have come from a horror movie. A never-ending nightmare that hung more tenaciously on his thoughts and nerves than a shitty tick that you just couldn't get rid of because it had bitten too deeply.  
And if things went on like this, then not only his job hung by a thread, but also his studies, which he only managed to do with a bang and fuss and was able to squeeze between working hours.  
 _Meeeow_  
Realizing that his thoughts had drifted off again, he looked up from the mustard-yellow file, which he had not even opened, and looked again at the cat. In the meantime she was no longer sitting in the same place as before, but wandering from left to right and back again up and down in front of the balcony door, always looking into the living room. Only now, when she had his undivided attention back now again, did she sit down again in the place where she had been sitting before, ready for the next round of mutual staring.  
"Yes, you know ... no. I won't play this little game with you! Go and find another television, Richard-TV isn't in today!" . What the heck did that cat want from him? Aside from the obvious, which at that moment was probably just a 'into the apartment, where it's warm and dry'.  
With that he finally opened the file on his lap and began to read through the documents, even managed to do it for over half an hour without being distracted by anything, ignoring everything outside this room with absolute willpower.  
When he arrived at the end of the admittedly not particularly thick and therefore particularly boring file and looked up again, he was amazed. Like a statue, the furball was still sitting in the same place. A pretty wet statue! He'd heard that cats could be persistent. But that she just sat there motionless for such a long time, let herself be soaked to the bones by an angry downpour of autumn and still not losing interest in it just seemed to look at him stupid, he found that respectable somewhere . Creepy but respectable.  
"You really want to go in, eh?", He asked in her direction, closed the file and put it next to him with the other documents. "Don't you think it would be more intelligent if you had given up your stubbornness and just gone somewhere else instead? I'm sure there are a thousand dry places here where you could have licked your paws a thousand times by now ... or whatever else you cats are doing! ", with any other possible decision she would have achieved more success than with staying here.  
In the end, the officer himself did not know why he gave in and opened the balcony door, was immediately greeted by the cold air of the season and cold raindrops that blew in wonderfully with the wind, as if there were no other cardinal points to choose from than those in his direction . To be honest, he would have expected the gray animal to storm in immediately, now that it finally had its will, but to his renewed surprise the stubborn creature was still sitting there, the only difference being that it was now looking up at him .  
"What is it now? I thought you want to go in ?! Now or never, your choice!", Slowly he really felt a bit pissed off! And most of all by himself .. Snorting annoyed, he was just about to close the balcony door when the four-legged friend rose from his sitting position and trotted comfortably in, as if this had been his kingdom for a long time. No shyness, no curiosity, nothing you could think of was reflected in the behavior of the animal guest, as it leisurely strolled in and jumped on the living room table.  
"Yes, of course ... make yourself comfortable," mumbled the host and closed the balcony door again and disappeared for a moment into the bathroom, from which he came back armed with a towel. It was probably insane to try to dry off a cat, and he didn't even know if it was tame and how it thought about to be touched. But the attempt was still better than giving up without a fight from the start and ending up with wet and dirty furniture.  
To be on the safe side, he packed up the documents and stowed them away before he had to expect to give them back to the university in a stained condition.  
To his surprise, he didn't have to do anything. As soon as he had spread the towel on his thighs, the cat jumped on it by itself, which made the man freeze for a moment. He was not a cat person and remembered these animals as scratchy and biting creatures that he had avoided getting too close to from an early age.  
"Fine ... that's how it works!", He mumbled and relaxed again when the four-legged friend started purring on his legs before it lay down, turned back and forth and rubbed its head on the towel . Richard carefully began to rub the ends of the towel over its fur, at least to take the moisture out of the hair and from minute to minute the uncertainty disappeared. It seemed to please the velvet pawed guest, at least if you assumed the purring, which was getting louder and had something calming in it, even for him. Without question she had run away from someone and was not shy, weird that nobody seemed to be looking for her.  
"You don't need to be extra cute ... when the rain is over you still end up in front of the door!", He didn't sound nearly as promising as he wanted it to be, despite the fact that the visitor couldn't understand him anyway and visibly enjoyed the time as she now lay on her back and stretched. It was the first time that the black-haired man looked at her more closely. Although she had run into him a thousand times, followed at least half as often and sneaked around him, he hadn't really looked at her yet. More than that she was gray and affectionate, he couldn't have said right away, but she had more features that made her stand out from others of her kind. The fur was of the said gray and free of any pattern, the paws, however, were black up to half of the legs, as well as the tips of the ears, of which the left had a clear notch, probably from life on the street. Her eyes were a mixture of a light blue and gray and in general she was rather smaller in stature, but anything but emaciated. A clear scar ran along her back a good three fingers wide, which the officer only noticed when he ran his fingers over the fur-free area when he started to scratch the cat's fur without the towel. "Hard life out there, huh?", He commented on the find, without interrupting the crawl unit. "Don't worry about it. You're still a pretty lady," as quickly as he smiled at his own words, so quickly it passed again when the animal wiped his hand with claws out of nowhere. Gifting the first of many subsequent scratches on the mans skin. As it turned out much later, the cat was a male and nit a female...


	2. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to the amazing [Niko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikoNotHere) who read this chapter beta for me! <33

**13 November**

It was an almost unbearable stench, which stung acrid in the nose, so intense that you think you could actually taste the smell. Musty and rotting, almost causing corruption, it lays in the stifling air, in which no fresh breeze seemed to have blown for a long time.  
It was dark, but not so dark that you couldn't see anything. It was more like the darkness coming out of every single fiber and pore of the walls themselves and creeping up, burying everything under itself and taking in what it could achieve. It was accompanied by a cold that not only crawled under the clothes on the body, but also seemed to reach much deeper and pull directly into the bones.  
Richard knew the house he was in, although the word 'house' could hardly do justice to it, because it was more like a palace. He knew every corner, every room, every staircase, every floor. He knew the surroundings, the garden, which wound its way around the outer walls, wild and yet well-tended and once provided a habitat for so many animals and insects. He knew the sound of wind and rain in a pleasant summer thunderstorm, the rustling of the trees and leaves when they were carried across the ground by the wind in autumn. Every creak and groan of the wood on the floors and ceilings he knew.  
Although he had never been here before, he knew everything inside out, as if he had lived his whole life within the strange and yet familiar walls of the building. As always, he didn't know how he got here. It was as if only one blink was enough to swap the previous world for the current one. Where just now the lines full of letters of a book had been shown the image of a fallen hall, which had certainly once shone in wonderful splendor and was full of life.  
He closed his eyes. He saw it in front of him as if his gaze had only wandered over the unspoilt surroundings yesterday. The walls made of massive, innumerable stones were decorated over and over with wall paintings. Each wall tells a story, lovingly and immortalized by hand with soft paint by talented artists. In the middle of the room was a huge fireplace, the smell of the burning oak wood was still in his memory as well as the rustle and crackling of the fire when the flames licked over the wood. Here and there were curved and artistically decorated columns in the room, carrying the heavy beams made of red-brown wood, which stretched massive and in rows across the entire ceiling. Tables and benches were lined up left and right, the fireplace clearly the center of the huge room in which life had once reigned, accompanied by the melody of conversation and laughter.  
Yes, he remembered everything as if it had only been yesterday, but when he opened his eyes again nothing resembled the image of his memory. The ravages of time had long since left its mark. Dirt, dust and withered leaves began to move under the man's cautious steps as he crept barefoot across the cold, stone floor, looking around with an attentive look.  
Although darkness had attacked the walls like a living fungus, he could not help but let a finger wander soft over the surface, which dissolved at the slightest touch, disintegrated and fell to the floor in thousands and thousands of fragments. Color that once produced magnificent pictures and told stories now only hung on the wall in rolled up flakes of paint, just waiting to give in to gravity at some point if they hadn't already done so. Small plants and moss fought their way through some cracks in the walls, corners and the floor, which seemed to be sufficient to be feed on the moisture of the masonry and never see the sun.  
Almost completely silently, the man made his way through the familiar, strange hall, only hesitating when he reached the huge archway, which without the darkness had certainly been inviting to enter the corridors behind it. Now there was only darkness behind it. A darkness that didn't seem to be of natural origin and made his hair stand on end.  
Everything, just everything in him was reluctant to take even one step towards the darkness, which was at the same time too attractive, as if it wanted to lure you, just waiting to draw a new victim in itself and never let go again.  
His breath echoed shakily in his own ears as he leaned with one hand against the crumbling corner of the archway, with the other hand carefully reached into the air in front of him, as if testing the surface of water with his fingers.  
_„it is your kindom...“_  
Richard quickly turned in the direction from which the whisper had come, but his gaze found nothing more than what had been seen before. The heart was racing so much that for a moment he thought he could only hear the heavy, fast beating, which was only drowned out when he could hear his own, insecure voice. „Who's there?“.  
No Answer.  
He continued to look around, trying not to ignore any direction around him for too long, but he saw no one.  
_„But your darkness has been lost ... and with it your light ...“_  
He spun around again, turned once around his own axis, searching his eyes hastily, but they still couldn't find the source of the words.  
„Show yourself!“ He demanded, but the words faded away without results in the crushing silence around him, which even his voice seemed to simply suck up as a sound.  
„Damn it, show yourself!“ He cursed, his heart racing so fast and heavy that he thought it would burst against his rib cage at any moment. All his attention was on the room until it was distracted by an entirely different sound. Worse and bloodcurdling than all of the abandoned words put together. The clacking and squeaking was uncomfortable in the ears and it clearly came from the darkness behind this archway, which he had only recently considered wanting to enter. His eyes glued to the passage in front of him as he walked slowly backwards, blind to any obstacle that might get in the way of his bare feet.  
_„But it's not your time yet.“_

„DAMN IT WHO-“, a glass shattered audibly on the floor and he could just make out how the cat ran around the corner out of his field of vision. There was nothing to be seen of the run-down room, and the heavy air had given way to the familiar heating air, which was a little too dry, but still a thousand times better.  
The street noise of the busy city was pleasantly muffled to his ear. He was in his apartment, in his bedroom. His safe, familiar and, above all, bright home. It might be incomprehensible to an adult, but now there was hardly anything more calming for the black-haired man than the street noise from outside and the warm, dimmed light of the lamps, which stayed on at night.  
His heart was still racing and the adrenaline pumping through his body, ready to flee at any moment, but the more the information about being safe really trickled through to him, the more he relaxed again.  
A typical night now. The same dreams and the same end. He who woke up soaking wet into a sitting position, took forever to calm down, and then couldn't sleep for the rest of the day.  
A heavy sigh pearled over his lips as he brushed his wet hair from his forehead with one hand before he let himself fall back into the soft pillow, the still open book being carelessly pushed onto the bed with one hand beside him. A quick glance at the glowing digital display of his alarm clock indicated shortly after four, which elicited a quiet 'shit' from him. He didn't even know when he'd last slept more than four hours. He didn't know when he'd last really slept at all. Slept with real relaxation in result!  
Slowly he thought he was going crazy for real by now! That drove him insane! These dreams drove him insane, this eternal fatigue ... everything!  
And although he was tired and closed his eyes again, he already knew very well that there would be no more sleep for him through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanky for reading! <3 
> 
> Writers music:  
> Danheim - Floki's last Journey  
> Autumn, Autumn - Askjell  
> Lyfjaberg - Wardruna


	3. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard finally makes some progress~

**21 November**

The November rain rushed relentlessly in a thick veil over the city and drove the man like the other passers-by in quick steps through the streets until he could finally escape through a rather inconspicuous door into the dry.  
For days the rain did not want to find a break after a relaxing, week-long period of sunshine and probably slowly pulled even the most steadfast cheerful people in the city into a bad mood. In any case, the rain and the eternally gray clouds were slowly depressing Richard, although the sound of the heavy raindrops brought something calming with it for him. Running through the pouring water didn't do anything positive to the mood and grumbling accordingly, he entered the building, in which he first wiped the raindrops from his neck before they could run coldly down his back.  
It was no longer news for him to be here, and yet he still didn't like it. Although the people were all nice, the place, this doctor's office of the psychologist made him feel uncomfortable and having to come here didn't make it any better!  
It was not because he did not take this area of medicine seriously or believed that it was wrong to accept such kind of help. He felt the psyche to be a very important part in life and would never say a word that would played it down or made bad about it.  
It was more the thought of being judged that bothered him. After all, he wasn't here of his own volition - which wasn't too much of an annoyance either - but because of a condition on which his job depended. Other people had decided that an absolute stranger had the power to decide whether or not he was able to carry a weapon with him. And that just put everything in a slightly different light.  
His boss got assessments about him and Richard didn't know how to influence that he was finally allowed to go back to work. He missed work, very much, and he was more than sure that it was going downhill too, precisely because he could no longer work and was downright forced to have no distractions. Having to deal with himself didn't help his nightmares getting better either, that was definitely clear in his eyes!  
As always, he reported to the receptionist for his appointment and, as always, he didn't have to wait long. He had just banished his soaked coat to the cloakroom when he heard his name followed by the invitation to step into the doctor's room.  
The consulting room didn't look very typical, which you could actually say about the whole doctor's office. It was neither exaggeratedly bright and sterile like a clinical office, nor was it set up to 'loosen up' convulsive, as some doctors also liked to do and just started to hang up the most abstract pictures that could be found on the art market.  
The office was more like visiting a classy, yet comfortably furnished friend who had a somewhat excessive tendency towards cleanliness. The consulting room also had little of a typical consulting room and more of a one-room apartment, in which the office and living room had to be in one room.  
Whoever still believed that every psychologist had a couch next to an armchair, could learn better and be surprised here, just as it had surprised the officer the first time. There was indeed a couch here, but it was intended for cozy sitting and really outrageously comfortable once you sat on it.  
The woman, his therapist, was of an advanced age. Life had drawn soft and friendly features on her face and her somewhat deeper voice was just as warm and pleasant. She was a nice, friendly person who was a pleasure to talk to. Not because she had to be because of her job, but because it was simply part of her character, which always gave their meetings a pleasant atmosphere.   
As always, Richard took a seat at the end of the couch and, as always, got a coffee from the machine that was standing by the window. By now she didn't even ask anymore, just put the small cup of black coffee in front of him. After three months she hardly had to ask anymore.  
Three months. In itself that was a long time and it almost seemed all the more absurd that they had still not made a noticeable step in the positive direction.  
At the beginning, at their first meeting, he was still nervous and just as hopeful that she could really help him, tell him what the hell was wrong. After almost two months this hope and nervousness turned into frustration and he really wondered what all of this was about. It hadn't gotten easier or better, but harder and worse, and the woman seemed to have absolutely no idea what seemed to be the matter with him. So the frustration of that came on top of the already shitty situation.  
By now he had simply resigned himself to it, although neither hope nor frustration had given up in him to exist.  
Three months ... 4 since he was 'taken off' from work.  
It felt like forever. He inevitably had to wonder how realistic it was that this condition would end and he would be allowed to work again. He had to admit, it didn't look so realistic in his eyes anymore, he was surprised that he was still paid and employed after all this time with no noticeable progress. The only progress was that he had now admitted that something was not normal with him anymore.   
At first he had thought very differently about it. In the beginning he had declared the others crazy and complained that such a big deal had been made of everything. Which, admittedly, was mainly due to the fact that he had also been at work when he had one of the fortunately rare daydreams and freaked out in front of all his colleagues. In the meantime he had not only seen that something was really wrong, he would even claim it himself. After all -  
„What are you thinking about right now?“.  
Torn from his thoughts, the officer looked up from his coffee in his hands, into which he had stared unfocused without noticing it himself, and looked at the woman who had meanwhile taken a seat across from him on the separate part of the couch, as always.

With a "Hmm", he ran one hand through his still wet, short hair, giving the words a moment to summarize. "Nothing that important. Actually, I only wondered for a moment if I could ever go back into work again. In my job, I mean.", He finally revealed his thoughts.  
"How do you come up with the fact that this couldn't be the case?" She asked with interest, without giving the impression that she was only interested in the professional aspect. She was damn good at that anyway. To make conversations seem as if it were out of an honest, amicable interest, out of curiosity and not because she had to find out something.  
"Well ... I don't know. It's just ... we've been doing this for so long now and it doesn't exactly seem to bring any improvement, don't you think?" He said the point that now really stood out for him.  
"But it hasn't gotten any worse, has it?", She asked and now looked at her patient a little more closely. She knew Richard wasn't telling her the whole truth, and that not just since yesterday. Together they had already shed light on so many points in his life, in his childhood, in the various relationships with other people, in his job ... and had not come across anything that was really worth mentioning. And yet it was obvious that the man felt visibly worse from time to time. He just kept to himself the really important points with which they would get ahead. He was a master at turning things around if needed, just so as not to have to say more than he wanted.  
But she knew these tactics too well to overlook how his speech pattern then changed treacherously, he unconsciously made gestures of nervousness, small but present.  
"Richard, how bad are your nightmares really? How much do you sleep on average? Be honest, I have eyes in my head and your dark circles tell me enough to make my own assumptions.", she said, voice more serous now although it still didn't gets an unpleasant character.  
The question elicited a low, frustrated sigh. The black-haired man was torn between 'stand firm' and 'give up'.  
On the one hand, he just wasn't willing to tell more than he had to and stir up more wind than was necessary. He was convinced that he could say goodbye to the credibility of his mental health, if he would first unpack what his days - or rather nights - really looked like. But on the other hand ... they didn't make any headway! Yes, it got worse and slowly he really said goodbye to his mental health - just because of the lack of sleep! In addition, he slowly began to display really atypical behavior patterns, which were just waiting to settle into his behavior and stay permanently.  
It was an endless balancing act, an inner struggle that only left the question open whether it was really worth it because of the worry of the job. It all looked like the same end at the moment, didn't it?  
Only did he really want to heat up the appearance of his own madness with words of approval?  
Thoughtfully, he ran his fingers through his three-day beard, again sighed softly.  
"Maybe ..." he began. ".. the dreams have become a bit more intense lately.", he finally admitted and took his eyes off the coffee, looked back at the woman, whose expression he couldn't find in any surprise.  
"It's still the same dream, I guess at least . It's still the same room and nothing really changes. The smell, the familiarity, the darkness, everything is just the same. And I always do the same things and fail in tries to go out of this room. ".  
"What do you mean by 'familiarity'?" It was the first time in a long time that she fished her little recorder from the desk and switched on the recording before putting it in the edge of the table. At first it had really bothered Richard, it had made talking more uncomfortable than it had already been. But meanwhile he didn't really care anymore. If she would sit there and kept writing down what he said, it would probably annoy him even more!  
"I'm not sure how to describe it. It's as if I knew the place, as if I had spent my whole life there. Every corner, every sound, just everything.", He tried to describe it, knew himself how stupid that must sound like. After all, it did so in his own ears.  
"So you know what it looks like outside of the room?"  
"Yes.".  
"But you never went out?"  
"No.".  
"Why not? Have you tried it before?"  
His gaze wandered back to his coffee as if he could find the answer in it. Had he tried?  
"I don't know, to be honest. I've tried the last few times, but I've never got any further than the doorway from the room. There's this .. darkness, where darkness doesn't even really describe it. It's not just darkness, it's ... ", with a slight shake of his head, he looked for words that could describe it, but none of them seemed suitable enough. He just didn't know how to describe it. "Do you know that overwhelming feeling of a situation that makes your hair stand on end and gives you the knowledge, deep down in your body, that something really bad is going to happen? That something is really dangerous and there is no going back if you would cross that line of finding out once? This is what this darkness feels like. As if it were alive and it doesn't matter if I'm dreaming or awake, the feeling doesn't change. Even now, when I only think about it, my spine gets cold and everything in me switches to 'escape'! ", He tried to explain it anyway, tried to ignore the tension and nervousness creeping up inside him .  
If he was to be honest he really was grateful that the rain was still pounding loudly against the large window panes next to him and breaking the uncomfortable silence of the room. There was still something comforting about it, whether it was here or at his home.  
"You told me at the time that you are aware in your dreams that it is only a dream. Have you ever tried to be clear in a dream that nothing can happen to you and still tried to leave the room with this certainty ? ".  
"No .. and yes. It ... gives me no certainty that I am awake. But I still wanted to go outside. More because I felt I just had to. But I was stopped. By someones Voice that was absolutely not mine and that I cannot assign to anyone in my environment, although she was also very well known to me .. or is, I don't know. ", her gaze was still warm and free of condemnation of any kind on him, while she mentally made a few notes that she would have to write down later.  
"You didn't see who this voice belonged to?".  
"No, nobody was there. She hadn't said much either, my cat woke me up and everything was over.", Her neutral look changed into a surprise. "You have a cat?".  
"Well .. no, not really. It's not really mine, I have no idea who she belongs to. I think she was abandoned somewhere in my area a few months ago and since then she has been pissed me off permamently. She was constant in front of my windows and stuff ... A few weeks ago I let her in because it had rained so much that I really felt sorry for her. Actually I wanted to let her out again the next day, but ... um ... I don't know either. Actually, it is very pleasant not to be alone and there is something calming about her. In addition, since she has been there, she has always woken me up when the dreams become to intense. I guess instinct.", it was clear to him that the cat couldn't stay with him forever.  
But as long as he didn't see any search sheets about her, he could take a little time, couldn't he? Although no one would be looking for her by now, she had been roaming the streets of his area for months now. He still remember the time well, after all, it wasn't too long after he had started these dreams ... Wait a minute. What a coincidence!  
He hadn't noticed that before! For a moment he thought more intensely about whether he might not have seen the cat before, but he was pretty sure that their paths hadn't crossed before. It wasn't as if the officer now gave the whole thing any meaning, but it was still a surprising coincidence in his eyes.  
Especially when he looked at the absurd parallel of how the cat's habit of annoying had increased with the intensity of the dreams over time. But it probably only seemed to him that way because he was just getting more annoyed from week to week, which was clearly due to the increasing tiredness. Probably there wasn't even a parallel and why was he even bothered about it ..  
"Richard, are you listening to me?"  
Once again the black-haired man hadn't noticed how his thoughts had slipped out of reality and once again he looked up accordingly caught.  
"Sorry. I just had to think about who the cat belongs to."..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3 
> 
> writers music:  
> Laura Marling - Devil's Resting Place


	4. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Paul will join the game and the party finally can start for real! ;D

**3 Dezember**

  
A loud noise tore Richard out of his concentration, which he had been able to devote surprisingly upright to the book at university, at least now. Since the last last appointment with his doctor, he got through the day a lot better, which was probably less because of the talking, but because he had finally allowed himself to agree to a medical treatment. In fact, he was still reluctant to take medication. On the one hand, because he generally didn't like taking them at all and, on the other hand, what was much more important, because he had to be careful what he took.   
Some med could jeopardize his approval, especially when it came to psychotropic meds, which he still refused and what would not change, no matter what was going to happen. Nevertheless, together they had been able to agree on flurazepam, which would not be dangerous for any approvals in a short-term treatment. After all, it was only a sleeping pill, albeit a strong one.  
And oh boy..., how wonderful and relieving it had been when he had slept through the night for the first time in all this time! How luxuriously simple things could be, which actually belonged to normality, you only noticed when they were no longer a matter of course.  
Of course, he still tried to take as little as possible and refrained from throwing that stuff like TicTacs down his throat every day! But if he took one every few days, then at least for one night he enjoyed escaping the same images and fears which were haunting him and getting up in the morning with more power on the battery. In return he gladly accepted the occasional headache and nausea!  
Because with sleep, concentration came back. And if there was one thing Richard needed, it was this!  
The winter semester was almost halfway through and he really couldn't use it to rattle through this damn semester! Just because he was on leave from his job didn't mean he'd put his whole life on hold because of it.  
So he had been lying on the couch all morning, his nose buried deep in the documents and being refreshingly productive, since the cat was not bothering him as usual, annoying and testing his patience.   
Early in the morning she had disappeared from the small bathroom window, which he always left a little open for her despite the cold, and has not been back since. Actually it was atypical, she rarely disappeared, but Richard didn't care much about it. Perhaps she was just enjoying the sun, which for the past two or three days has now and then broken through the clouds here and there and let people stock up on a little vitamin D.  
So the morning could be really nice!  
If it weren't for this noise that had been echoing through the hallway for a good hour, in which, thanks to the old building, it was already typically noisy and resounded twice immediately afterwards.  
Again it bumped and this time against his door, which made the man flinch and gradually drove the good mood away. The couch creaked softly when he got up from her and went to the window to catch a glimpse of what was actually going on here. The time was no longer an inhuman daytime, but it was still Sunday. Perhaps it was a typically German thing to insist that there was something like a quiet housetime in this country, but perhaps it was just the officer in him who liked to insist on rules and order. No matter what it was, he was slowly getting bothered by the noise, even if he wasn't that fussy.  
A large van was parked in front of the house, and large red letters on the side of the car indicated that a moving company was behind it. Ahh right, a few weeks ago people had moved out of the third floor and everyone in the house was wondering why the apartment hadn't been inhabited since then. No apartment here in town stayed empty for long, especially one that was perfect for a single person, that didn't seem absolutely shabby and that was still reasonably affordable!  
So a move in. Well, that wasn't easy to do quietly, even if there were six more suitable days for such a loud action. But sometimes you couldn't change it because of work, he knew that himself. So he decided to accept it and leave it be! So the black-haired man swallowed his annoyance with a grumble and wandered on into the kitchen to at least get some new coffee, but forgot his good intentions after it rattled on his door two more times so loudly that it almost surprised him that there wasn't a hole in it yet. A little too vigorously he put the coffee can on the work surface and scurried barefoot to the front door, which, typical for these houses, still consisted of really solid wood and had elements made of slightly colored privacy glass at the top. The hinges creaked softly as he swung the heavy door open. The cold and the typical smell of a hallway from an old building greeted him familiarly, as did the creaking of the long-worn wooden steps on which one of two men was standing trying to hold a cupboard that was much too bulky for the narrow curve of the tiny hallway, insofar as you could would not heave it further on end. A thankless task, no question about it. First of all, Richard's gaze wandered down his door, which indeed had one or two new notches in the wood, and he was sure that the walls had already received just as new trophies. Actually nothing that really bothered him! The half dark green, half white walls already had innumerable traces of the same problems of dozens of moves and the same scratches applied to the doors of pretty much all houeseholds.  
Nonetheless, he looked annoyed at the two young men, who were still trying with dwindling strength to solve the riddle in the unsuccessful way instead of putting the cupboard down and subjecting the whole thing to a theoretical consideration.  
"Guys .. I know, real-life Tetris at two by three meters is a challenge, but I would like to keep my glass in the door! Honestly!", he said, a little annoyed but cautiously calm and looked alternately between the two men at the respective ends of the cupboard, who looked at him apologetically and caught.  
"Do yourself a favor and unscrew the cupboard, you won't get it up that way. Not without breaking the stairs or the cupboard itself!", a fair advice, because the old wooden stairs - as usual for these stairs - had no protective facing under the steps, which only invited the corners of the cupboard to get stuck even more easily.  
"This is not our furniture, we are not allowed to take anything apart, we are just moving!", defended the probably younger man of the two. "Then tell the owner!", wasn't that obvious? Did he really have to mention this idea? On the other hand ... the two had just been trying to get up the cupboard for what felt like half an hour and also to draw from it without teachable conclusions, so ...  
"What should you tell me?"  
Richard's gaze wandered from the two boys to the new voice that came from the double-door entrance - and froze for a moment in space and time. The same goes for the man who had stepped into the hallway, packed with a side table, over which he could just look over a bit, also stopped immediately, as soon as their eyes met. He didn't seem quite as surprised as the officer did, but he was no less tense than Richard was. And this tension had a legitimate reason to exist.  
"Paul?", bewilderment and a touch of indignation rang in the expression of the officer, which made the others barely noticeably retreat before Paul slowly placed the piece of furniture on the patterned floor at the entrance, but did not move any further. The reaction from Paul was proof enough for Richard that he was not mistaken about recognizing the right person.  
Before Paul could say anything, the black-haired man backed away from the doorstep to the safety of his apartment, closed the door with more vigor than it would have been necessary and which was certainly reverberated up to the top floor.

That was an impossible thing!  
It just couldn't be a coincidence! Not in a huge city with more than ten boroughs. Not in a city with 3.7 million people ... not in the largest city in the whole damn country!  
But after all this time, after all these years, why should it be anything other than coincidence? It just didn't make sense.  
Still with shock and disbelief in his expression, he went straight into the living room, where he grabbed his cigarettes and went on to the balcony, hiding himself in the most sheltered corner.  
In his own apartment he couldn't get any further from the main entrance where the van was still parked. As much as he hated the view of the backyard, right now he didn't want to see anything other than this small, dreary place, which absolutely failed to create a break from the big city how it was ment to in any way. With trembling fingers he lit one of the glow sticks, leaned his forearms on the railing and took a deep drag, hoping it would calm him down. Slowly he let the gray haze escape from his lungs with his eyes closed, concentrating on everything around him, only in the hope that something would distract him from the upcoming feeling. Everything would be fine for him, everything except the arising thoughts, which he had been able to suppress for years.  
Breathe in. Exhale. Breathe in again ...  
That helped a shit!  
Richard opened his eyes again in frustration and looked at the floor under the balcony, which should have been much better a terrace, but never got that honor.  
In fact, it was ridiculous that a simple encounter with a single person he had last seen eight years ago was able to bring him so much frustration like now. It was ridiculous because he was no longer 26, but 34. Because he was more grown up. And because you should think that you should be able to get over certain things after all these years and at this age.  
If Richard was to be honest, he never was able to get to this point.  
Even today he remembered exactly the first day they saw each other and the last day as if it had happened yesterday.  
When he and Paul met for the first time, he was just 23 years old, had just dropped out of law studies after four semesters and had been working here and there for a year without any precise plans about how things would go in the future.  
Richard had quite enjoyed the time back then and sometimes missed it even now, because although it had been difficult to deal with all difficulties of life without a permanent job, there was something liberating about not having to go according to any plan. Just let everything come its way and spontaneously decide how to act. Now plans and regular processes were important to him, but at that time there couldn't have been anything less important for him, especially not after the two years of studying something that was so timed that there was hardly any time to breathe deeply.  
In those nearly two years there had been shitty and good jobs and since he had quickly given up the bad ones, the mostly good ones remained.  
The best job by far was the position in the small, broken-down club, in which had been some small concerts by as yet unknown bands on the mini-stage, or some other party, mostly on the weekends. It was always chaotic and loud, nobody ever knew exactly what would be going on that evening and the tip was anything but despicable! In no other place had he made so much extra money as there! And in no other place had it been easier to get to know other people, which was the second big plus point right after the tip. He had been young and wanted to live it out! And there he had pretty much everything he had hoped for at this precise point in his life.  
And then there was Paul. The guy who had changed Richard his whole damn life and without whom he wouldn't be where he was now. Paul's actual drink order from him had turned into a long conversation and the conversation quickly turned into an acquaintance. From the beginning they had been on the same wavelength, so it was hardly surprising that a friendship had developed from this that made you feel like they'd known each other forever. Richard couldn't remember any other time in his life when he laughed so much or which he enjoyed so much as the one he'd spent with the other man.  
The only thing that could possibly be called surprising about everything was the fact that at some point their friendship had turned into something more intimate. Because up to this point in his life, the black-haired man hadn't even thought seriously about the fact that his interests could even go beyond the edge of the box of the female world.  
No. All of this had only come with Paul, who had kidnapped him in so many ways into another world and to whom he still owed a lot, even if he would not love to admit it.  
Richard had been the happiest, most even-tempered, and even if it sounded cheesy, happiest guy on this goddamn planet for a little over three years.  
And then Paul just took everything and destroyed it himself!  
The officer hissed as the glow of the cigarette kissed the skin of his finger and brought him back to the here and now. He hadn't even noticed how his thoughts had slipped into the minefield of memories around the other, but his cigarette had definitely smoked itself by now, so that he carelessly flicked away the last bit and let the cold drift him back into the living room.  
Maybe this was just a dream, too. Another nightmare, for a change in his already crappy situation. At least that seemed more likely to him than the possibility that this person of all people would move to this very house, in this very area!  
That was by far the last thing he needed right now! It had taken ages to recover after escaping to this place and to somehow get on with life. It had cost him so damn much to get to the point where he could somehow continue ...  
In the kitchen he hastily filled a glass with water and drank a few sips to wash down the knot in his throat, which, however, did not want to be chased away, which is why he put the glass down rudely next to the sink.  
All of that ... he just couldn't need that, not here and especially not now! Just the opportunity to be thrown back into all the old thoughts was enough for everything to cramp up in him, for his hands to grip the edge of the worktopeven harder to find hold on something. Everything in him was on the run, everything in him just wanted to go, no had to go! Away from here. Get out of this situation. Get out of this whole shitty life, which became overhelmingly to much for him! Away from those nightmares that he couldn't escape forever, because even the medication wasn't a solution, just a damn procrastination! In reality he wasn't going to get rid of anything! Neither these dreams; this fear; this horror and not even Paul how it seemed!  
Hissing curses broke out of him while he slowly sat down on the cold tiled floor of his kitchen and leaned his back against the base cabinets, trying to get the panic under control. Something new. Panic! Something else that he absolutely couldn't need right now.  
Richard didn't notice how much time passed, the minutes dragged on like resin in an attempt to finally get himself and his heart racing under control. Until something warm snuggled softly around his legs and made him look up again.   
His - no, not his... The cat had come back, meowed and moved into his personal space until he took her in his arms and patted her. Her purring was a really pleasant sound in contrast to the oppressive silence of the apartment and together with the closeness and distraction it helped the man finally calm down and catch his controll again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
